Mia's Ballad
by whyyesitscar
Summary: "Tell Me a Story"-related oneshot. Yes, I realize I'm not FitchSwitch. Inspired by Company of Thieves song "Mia's Ballad". Shocker, right? . Pretty fluffy.


**A/N: So, here's the deal. I was listening to this song called "Mia's Ballad" by this tiny Chicago-based band Company of Thieves, and it's such a sweet song and it's so tender, and of course I immediately thought of FitchSwitch's epic ode-to-fluff "Tell Me a Story." So long story short, I sent her the song and she said "OH MY GOD SOMEONE HAS TO WRITE A TMAS-RELATED ONESHOT ABOUT THIS." Et voilà! Enjoy.**

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><p><strong>10:16<strong>

That first night, Naomi and Emily didn't know what to do with themselves. They'd prepared for months waiting to take Mia home—they'd read literature, gone to online forums, actual support groups, everything. They'd saved up money, worked with Mia to prepare her room, spent as much time with her as they could. It had all been fun, the trips to the paint stores and clothes shopping and lazy days in the park.

And when the day had come to pick Mia up, they'd stood for a few hours and filled out paperwork, one of them always working to calm down the bouncing ball of energy that flitted around their feet. Not one of them had stopped smiling that day. They'd all smiled through exit interviews and chats with the lady who ran the orphanage and lunch and dinner and an _almost_ food fight that _almost_ got them kicked out of the ice cream parlor. And they'd all smiled in the car all the way back home.

But when Naomi had pulled up to their house, their smiles had turned nervous and thin; they had begun to waver, egged on by anxious eyes. It wasn't the first time Mia had been there—she'd helped put her bed in exactly the right part of her room. She'd helped put clothes in her very own closet and she'd arranged her stuffed animals just so on top of her blankets.

But every time Mia had come over, she'd always had to leave. This time, she'd be staying for good, and with the sudden slamming of a car door, the fun outings they'd always had turned into something real.

It was very dark by the time they got home, and Mia was drifting off. Naomi locked the car with a quiet beep of her remote and smiled as Emily lifted the sleepy, child-sized bundle from the back seat. "Got her?" she whispered. Emily nodded.

The two of them made their way quietly into the house, careful not to wake Mia. Of course, as soon as the five-year-old heard the front door click, she stirred. "Are we here now?" she slurred, still half-asleep.

"Yes," Emily responded just as quietly, rubbing Mia's back. "And you're about to be in bed."

"I'm not tired," Mia protested weakly.

"Oh, of course you're not," Emily said, setting Mia down on her bed and unzipping her jacket. "But the sooner you get to bed, the sooner you can start playing with your toys tomorrow."

"I don't want to go to sleep," Mia puled. "I want to stay up and have fun with you and Naomi so you don't give me back tomorrow."

Naomi watched as Emily's heart broke all over her face. She knew the redhead was feeling too much to form words.

"Mia," she said as she knelt down next to Emily, "how 'bout you sleep in bed with Emily and me tonight? Would that make you feel better?"

Mia reluctantly nodded. Emily looked at Naomi with relieved, watery eyes and smiled.

"Well, come on then." Naomi reached for Mia's hand. "Your very first slumber party awaits."

.

.

**1:42**

Almost two hours after falling asleep, Mia woke up, her eyelashes fluttering against Naomi's shoulder. On Mia's other side, Emily was snoring lightly.

"Naomi…"

"Hey, I'm here. It's okay. What's wrong, love?"

"Why did you and Emily pick me?"

Naomi hesitated for a moment. She didn't know how to respond to that question; how was she supposed to tell her newly-adopted daughter that she and Emily picked Mia because they loved her—unconditionally, on first sight and for all those sights afterward—when the subject of love was already so touchy for the five-year-old? Mia had an eerily accurate grasp on the emotion that no normal child should have.

(And yet, Naomi and Emily had picked Mia because she _wasn't _any normal child. They loved her because she was special, and she was special because they loved her. In the end, that was what Naomi told Mia).

"We chose you because you're special, Mia," she said. "We chose you because you make us a family. Okay?" The little girl hummed her approval. "Okay. Why don't you just lay your head back down"—Naomi shifted her shoulder so Mia could nestle into it—"and try and go back to sleep?"

"Can you tell me that story again?"

"Which one?"

"The one about you and Emily."

Naomi smiled and checked a laugh. "Right, well, it all started when she was raising her hand…"

.

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**4:03**

It was Emily who woke up the second time Mia did, only she didn't do so voluntarily. She was jolted from sleep by a rough nudge to her side. "Mia?" she mumbled.

"Naomi's a blanket-hog," came the little voice.

Emily rumbled a sleepy laugh. "Yes, she is. Come on, scoot over then." She lifted up the covers for Mia to move over. Mia curled her tiny body into Emily's, resting her head on Emily's chest. The redhead smiled and pressed a kiss to Mia's temple.

"Having trouble sleeping, sweetheart?"

"I got cold," Mia said matter-of-factly. She began to play with a long strand of Emily's hair. "What are we doing tomorrow?"

Emily sighed, thinking. "We can do whatever you want."

"We don't have to get up early for breakfast?"

"You can sleep for two whole days if you want to."

Mia giggled. "I won't sleep for _that_ long, silly."

"Well, you could if you really wanted."

"Really?"

Emily looked down to find eager eyes looking back up at her. "Really. You can do anything in the world."

"Can I play on the swings at the park?"

This time, Emily did laugh. "We'll save that for tomorrow, I think. For now, _you_ need to get some sleep. Are you warm enough now?"

"Yeah."

Emily pulled the covers tighter around the both of them, just in case. "Alright, well try and get some rest. Today was a big day, and tomorrow might be just as big."

"Maybe even bigger," Mia muttered, her voice thick with sleep.

"The biggest," Emily whispered.

.

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**5:57**

Naomi woke early in the morning to the sight of Mia and Emily huddled close together. They were so peaceful, Naomi didn't know which to be jealous of. She decided that since she was twice as full of love as normal, maybe it was both.

Naomi watched Mia as her tiny chest rose and fell with breaths; she took note of Emily's hand protectively wrapped around her small body. Naomi knew that if she were to switch places with Emily, she'd look exactly the same. And that's what made it right.

Naomi had stayed awake a bit after she'd finished telling Mia the story of her Emily; she'd stayed awake and thought about why Mia seemed to cling to their history. She wanted to tell everyone she met about her clever daughter, the one who recognized the power of love and possibility. She wanted the world to know that her daughter had figured out in five years what took most people a life to realize.

But after twenty minutes, she'd realized that she wasn't the right girl for the job. The right girl had been lying against her shoulder, and so when she'd gotten the chance, she'd crawled out of bed and grabbed a notebook and pen. Naomi had written down the story she'd told Mia, as close to verbatim as she could. When she was done, she flipped a page and wrote a small paragraph at the top of the paper.

_Mia—_

_That was only mine and Emily's life before we got you. This notebook is yours. Write whatever you want—write about us, or your dreams, a funny leaf you see on the sidewalk. It doesn't even have to be real. It's your notebook; you can write anything._

_But tell me a story._

Naomi got up at six o'clock that morning, put the notebook on Mia's bed, and then gingerly climbed back under the covers with her two favorite people in the world.

Her family.


End file.
